The Hollows: A Midnight Gunn Novel by C.L. Monaghan

Author:C.L. Monaghan [Monaghan, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-10-28T23:00:00+00:00

It was the slow, rhythmic echo of dripping of water that eventually roused him, or it could’ve been the smell- dank and rotten. It abused his nostrils and caused him a fit of spontaneous hacking coughs. Gredge sat up too quickly and immediately regretted it. His head spun and he felt burning bile rise in his throat. He retched and tried to raise himself on his knees but it was so dark, for a second he couldn’t tell which way was up. It was only the cold hardness of stone under his hands that brought him back from the brink of panic. He’d never been good in dark places, especially since he knew the things that lay in wait amongst the shadows.

Breathe!

Still on all fours, Arthur forced himself to focus.

That’s it…in and out, in and out. I’m alive… breathe…stop fucking panicking man!

When he’d slowed his breathing to something relatively normal and stopped feeling sick, Arthur sat back on his heels, squeezed his eyes tight shut then opened them. It was pitch black.

Stop it! There’s nothing to be afraid of you idiot.

He slapped his own face hard. The sound echoed and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Where in Christ’s name am I?

His mind remained foggy. He shook his head and then wished he hadn’t as he retched again.

Gunn, club, he was…drinking and then…Kim! Bastard hit me! Where the hell am I then? Fuck… alive…thank God. Need to get out! Shit! Think…come on Arthur, you’re a copper…think!

His head was pounding, tentatively he reached up and felt the tender lump on his skull.

Bastard.

Gredge wondered how long he had been in whatever hole he now found himself in. Clearly Gunn’s plan hadn’t worked and he wondered what fate had befallen his friend. The plinking of water triggered his sudden, raging thirst. Along with a terrible sense of foreboding; like the ticking of a clock marking the passing of time.

Crawling on all fours he scuttled to his left, fumbling around in the blackness, his hands and knees trailing through cold slime and organic matter that he couldn’t allow himself to think on for fear of what it might be. Gredge reached out blindly, hoping his fingers may grasp something, anything that may give him either a drink or some idea of where he was. He felt empty air.

Keep moving till you find a wall, idiot!

When he finally felt brick his relief was palpable. Now he could navigate his prison and perhaps find a way out.

There must be a door. Stairs, anything…move slowly…keep moving. Listen. Focus.

A shuffling noise caused his head to swing to the right, “Who’s there? Gunn, is that you?” His voice hoarse, his throat dry and sore, his demands were lost to the dark. The high-pitched squeak quelled his fear somewhat.

Just a rat…fucking hate rats.

Fumbling his way along the brick wall, his feet shuffled forwards inch by inch, hoping to find something other than the empty dark. He cursed loudly when his right foot kicked something heavy. He kicked it again to ascertain what it might be.

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